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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30095886">She Will Be Loved</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/youknowmyname/pseuds/youknowmyname'>youknowmyname</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Infinitegalahad’s Oneshots [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Band of Brothers (TV 2001)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Based on a Maroon 5 Song, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, F/M, Flirting, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Miscommunication, only there old stuff though because that's good</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 22:15:57</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,506</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30095886</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/youknowmyname/pseuds/youknowmyname</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Floyd drove for miles and miles, and still wounded up at the same door. Every. Single. Time.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Floyd Talbert/Reader, Floyd Talbert/You</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Infinitegalahad’s Oneshots [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2250642</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>She Will Be Loved</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>WARNINGS: Slight mention of smut, past mentions of abuse/ rape!! </p><p>Based on the Maroon five song "she will be loved". I hate Maroon Five but their old stuff is very salvageable. I wanted to write Floyd Talbert as a playboy meets a total sweetheart. Hope you enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Women say men are all the same; A gentleman, at least what Floyd Talbert considered him, proves women wrong. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Floyd Talbert knew he was no good. He didn’t consider himself a playboy , even though he charmed a new girl every week and possibly took them to bed, but he definitely knew how to play the game. Heck, his friends called him the master of the game. Girls back home and Europe loved it when Tab would break their young hearts with his dashing smirk. Every week, he’d have a pretty lady or two hanging off of his arms, giggling and smiling at anything he did or said. It boosted his ego even bigger than it already was. What was there not to love? He got whatever he wanted, when he wanted, and he always was satisfied in the end. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Guys wished they were him and any girl he could get his hands on simply adored him. Floud Talbert was like Hercules, but more conceited and naive. He was too young for marriage and too old for foolish games. He liked the flamboyant lifestyle he lived, it kept him on edge. Besides, who would Floyd Talbert, the one, the only, change for? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--------</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Busy night?” You questioned, leaning against the counter, overlooking the packed bar. There was soft jazz in the backing music, singing, dancing, and loads of drunken men. Most of them were Americans. Alborune had been hosting the Paratroopers in the quaint little town. On the weekends, the pubs would turn into total clusterfucks, at least according to your boss. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Your boss looked at you and shrugged his shoulders, throwing a towel over his shoulder. “Unfortunately, and a lot of damn drunks,” He cursed. You looked behind him, seeing the American soldiers sloppily dancing with the local girls and even some of the waitresses. You could see the soldiers, their breaths of beer and hands grasping the waitresses' backs and butts, spinning them around as swing music played in the black. You had worked in a pub and knew how these relationships ended; divorce or after an awkward one night stand. Unfortunately, you had experienced the two of those more times then you could count on your fingers. Not wanting to get hurt, you made it official that you were here to do your job, make drinks, and serve the men. Nothing else and nothing more. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You bit your lip, letting out an inhale, “Another Friday night at the pub.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jus’ be careful, you hear me?” Your boss warned. He was like a father towards you; an old man with sweet eyes. He always made sure the waitresses in his bar weren’t being harassed in the pub. “And whatever you do-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t get yourself into trouble,” You repeated as you tied the apron onto your hips, “I know. ‘S not like I’ll be getting into it anytime today, or at all.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At the bar you worked at, most of the waitresses were the most beautiful women you had ever seen. They looked like they belonged in Hollywood with their soft curls, red lips, and large breasts. They were always either chatting up a storm with a Paratrooper, giving a paratrooper a motorboat, dancing with a Paratrooper, or sneaking with a Paratrooper to the back of the Pub. It was because they were beautiful on the outside, but not within. The men weren’t smart enough to see that. All they desired was a pretty girl to use and then dispose of the next day. It occasionally made you a tad bit jealous. You knew how childish it was, but you wanted to be that girl who was loved not only for her looks, but her personality. Loved for who you truly were. But you reminded yourself that it was better if you kept yourself out of the limelight. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You had begun your shift, taking orders and rushing to the counter to make two full trays of beer in your hands. The night was so far going well. A few of the men had hit on you, but it was nothing new or special. You simply ignored it, doing your mundae little schedule. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rosie was one of your co-workers. She was everything you wished to be; pretty, bubbly, and got everything she wanted. Every week, Rosie would wrap another Paratrooper around her finger. However, she began to play their game as well. Rosie took pleasure in twisting the mind’s of the Paratroopers and breaking their hearts, finding entertainment in it. She was a tease and took great pride in it. As much as you wanted to be her, seeing the Paratroopers have drinking games and even fights over her hand in “marriage” or “too see her glorious caboose”, you stopped and questioned yourself with emotion and logic. Was she truly happy doing this? Was she trying to fill a void in her life? Was she more of an object then a woman? Was it moral of her to break hearts as well? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You saw Rosie sitting next to a young Paratrooper as they made out passionately, hands traveling across each other's bodies. You couldn’t help but look and see their burning desire and hunger for each other. Rolling your eyes, you walk around the crowded bar, the strong smell of Alcohol and vintage jazz pleasing your ears. Every table was full, and as much as you dreaded it, it was your job to go around and ask what the men wanted. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You approached the first time and put on a counterfeit red smile, tilting your head as you chirped to the men. They all turned to you, half smiles and tired eyes, begging for more alcohol. You simply took the groups and wrote down their orders, going from man to man until you reached the end of the table. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And what would you like?” You asked, preparing your pen and pushing it against your tiny notebook. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The man at the end of the table was conversing with her friends. He first turned his head, greeting you </span>
</p><p>
  <span>with his big hazel eyes. You observed his boyish features of ruffled golden hair, a babyface, and lightly tanned skin. Sure, he was handsome, but so was every other man in this bar. He looked at you up and down, a smirk forming at the edge of his lips before he turned his whole body around to face you. He leaned on the edge of the table and simply stared at you, like he was in awe. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You,” He spat, earning a laugh from all of his friends. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Through your smile, you grit your teeth. “As If I’ve heard that one a million times..” It was a lie, that was the first time you had ever heard that in a while. You weren’t pretty enough to be noticed, but this time was apparently an expectation. “Do you want me to get you a menu?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You pointed his finger at you, “Like I said-you.” He stood up and smirked, holding his hands out. “You-me, I think we’d make a pretty great match.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How would we make a great match If I’ve known you for less than a minute?” You questioned, raising your eyebrows. “I could be mean.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, come now. You're gorgeous, I’m handsome.” He persisted. Great, not one of these. “Besides, I like challenges. Just be warned, I always win them miss…” He hesitated on your name before continuing, “Your name, doll?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Your order?” You said as you tapped your pen against your notebook. His little nickname had your cheeks flush a little. Thank god the pub had been litlety dimmed. “Please?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A beer and your name, </span>
  <em>
    <span>please</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” He politely requested. “I don’t believe I’m asking for much.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You looked at him with a sarcastic and puzzled expression, “Why do you care so much about knowing my name? You seem like the type who would forget by the next morning.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His friends made “ohing” noises like middle schoolers like a teacher would reprimand one of their friends. The cocky bastard let out a chuckle, flashing his pearly whites in a cocky smile. “Well, it depends. You’re feisty-I like it. Since it’s gonna be a while before we have anything going on between us, I best thought I’d make us familiar with each other. It’ll take some time for you to fall for me, but when you do, you’ll be lucky.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This man could not be for real. It wasn’t a man, but a boy. But on the outside, he was so god damn handsome. He looked like a homewrecker, but god damn, he did a good job of being one. Your boss's word’s of staying out of trouble were lingering from your mind now, and so quickly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re not gonna shut up until I tell you my name now, are you?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He shook his head, “Where’s the fun in that, dollface?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You wrote down his order for beer and then looked up, a smirk, “Y/n. Now you?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Y/n, a good name for a good girl. I’ve met a lot of y/n’s, but none like you. They fell into my arms like flies, but you aren’t like that. Just yet,” He joked, earning an eye roll from you. “It’s only fair If I tronduce myself, Sergeant Floyd Talbert,” He gave you a quick salute before relaxing, ‘But you can call me Tab, your boyfriend, or that silver fox that swept you off of your pretty little feet.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I think Tab will be good. Just try not to forget my name now, even though my expectations aren’t very high.” You sassed. He gave you an air kiss and you simply gave him a side eye, holding the tray and notebook to your chest as you ushered back to the counter to retrieve Beers. As you prepared them, you thought about Floyd Talbert. There were thousands of men like him. Good for nothing players who were too damn handsome for their own goods. Floyd Talbert was the type of man your parents would warn you to stay clear of since their middle names were trouble in all capitals. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But if he was so bad, then why was he so good to look at it? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Back at the bustling table, Floyd had kept his eyes on you. He watched your eyemove, like a hunter with its prey. He saw you converse with other waitresses, turn down compliments from other paratroopers, and do your job. He wasn’t one for formality, especially in the dating fields. It wasn’t what he was accustomed to doing. By now, the two of you would’ve been in the back of the pub, faulting to get your clothes off of each other for a wuckie. But you were different, you were a special case that Floyd knew would take a lot of investigating, </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why’d you ask for her name?” Malarkey asked, knocking Floyd out of his trance. “You say it’s not good to ask for a dame’s name. You know, to make it easier.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Floyd didn’t look over at Malarkey and simply stared at you, filling the large drinks with beer. He pulled on his lip, slumped on the chair. He always knew the answer for everything, he always had a solution. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But this time, it was different.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Floyd had gone into one of the bathrooms with a waitress, who simply smirked at him. Her whole face had trouble written her face, and so did he. She had red lipstick, bedroom eyes, and the nicest rack Floyd had ever seen. He knew from that moment that he would use his words to woo her. After a brief conversation of aggressive flirting, her and Floyd headed to the bathrooms with the blonde, angrily took their clothes off, and fucked. It was quick and there was not a single word spoken between the two. Floyd loved the attention and girls he got, but he never got a relationship or word out of them. He only cared for their looks, which even he knew was shallow. But it was all he knew how to do. If they seemed happy, so was he. But inside, was he truly happy with this lifestyle he lived? Did he like leaving a girl heartbroken the next morning with no goodbye? Did it make him happy? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And yet, he never asked for her name or had a small conversation with her. After they finished, she simply cleaned herself up and left, acting like nothing had happened. Floyd acted like that too, it was easy to put on a facade. He brushed back his ruffled hair and looked at himself in the mirror. He liked what he saw on the outside, but what did he like on the inside?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He still thought about the girl who had served him, y/n, who was not like his other targets. Y/n rejected his advances and twisted his words, which even Talbert found entertaining. He didn’t know this girl very well, but he wanted to. Flirt with her and talk to her, heck-even have a drink with her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His hyperixation with Y/n wasn’t going to be ending anytime soon. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--------</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So Floyd did what he did best-he kept coming back to the Pub. He would come with the men from Easy Company, and sometimes on his own. There he’d find y/n, who’d roll her eyes as he’d walk over and make another “amazing” attempt at flirting. His comments weren’t very creepy, after all, he was a gentleman. You had seen him around the bar before, but never learned his name. You always saw him as the handsome player with a blonde or brunette on his arm. Sure, he had that classic boyish look every girl and guy wished or wanted, but under all that hair gel and his pristine uniform-was he doing it all for his own pleasure? Did he think of women as toys he could throw away the next day, just like had been before? So you did what you did best-keep your distance and roll your eyes at his remarks. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But everytime he walked in and the doorbell would ring, signifying his presence, your hand would grasp against the cloth you were holding to wash down the bar counter.. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Floyd kept his promise and kept being persistent with winning your heart. He’d walk in and lean against the counter, saying your name like a sweet singsong. You’d serve him a drink, and he’d tell you about his day and occasionally flex his muscles. At first glance, Floyd seemed a boorish boy; the one who’d brag how he’d conquer multiple women like they were countries. You knew boorish men all too well, and didn’t need another one to increase your pessimistic view on romance. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>While much has Floyd loved to boast about himself, he also loved to talk about you. He always complimented your outfits, asked about your day, and even scared off the creepy paratrooper’s who’d get too close for comfort. When Floyd would talk to you, he’d look directly into your eyes and respectfully listen. And he remembered the tiniest of details, such as your little daughter or your neighbor, an edlery women, who’d pester you about marriage and cooking. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, how’s Ms.Walsh?” He asked as you placed a Beer in front of him. He had a shit eating grin on his face, so you already knew where this was going. “Did you tell her about your new man?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You shrugged your shoulders and played it off, “Much to your dismay, I did not. I’m still single.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Funny that you say that, y/n. Next time, tell her that you have a very handsome and strong Paratrooper with a dog. I think Trigger will like Poppy a lot.” Floyd boasted as he kept his eyes on you, leaned against the counter with your arms crossed. “Poppy will get used to Trigger, just like us.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Every Time he’d throw a remark at you, you’d throw it back with a tint of sarcasm. You had learned how to play his game, but occasionally loosened up. Floyd wasn’t a bad guy at all, his ego was big, but he didn’t have any cruel intentions when it came to you. He treated you like a human, with feelings and emotions. He always asked about your day, how you were, made you feel better when you were sad, and did anything to make you happy. So you broke out of your ice a little and did what he did to you in return; show him kindness. You’d finally sit with him at the bar if it wasn’t busy and talked to him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was hard to deny, but as much as you hated it, you were falling in love with him. It was hard to resist him, his words were as smooth as silk. Whenever he’d see you, he’d call out your name and would make sure everybody knew you were his-or at least that’s what you thought. The girls you worked with in the bar tried to flirt with him, but much to your surprise, he would push them all away-just for you. All of his attention was focused on you, and only you. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You were beyond conflicted. Your head was telling you to simply be friendly and civil, but your heart was leading you to pursue this romance. You were torn between logic and emotion. One part of you loved him, one part of you hated him. You hated the way he made you feel, think, blush, and do things. Floyd was taking over your life, whether you liked it or not. Whatever you and Floyd had going on was no longer on thin ice. The two of you were deep in the water scuba diving, </span>
  <em>
    <span>together</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The bar was busy at night, but tonight was different. It was less busy than usual and much quieter. The ambience was peaceful, soft souls playing in the background with the warm lights dimmed. Your manicured nails tapped at the counter as you observed the setting; some paratroopers drinking, a paratrooper cuddled with a fellow girl in town, and a waitress casually conversing with the costumors. Only a few more hours and you could finally return home with little Luna, nestled in your warm bed, alone and safe from the cruel world. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The little bell on top of the door had rang, alerting the whole bar of a new customer. You turned your head and bit your lip upon seeing the incoming danger. Great, your shift had just become a whole lot more entertaining. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Floyd was donning his new uniform, cap and gelled hair. He strutted across the bar to you, knowing that he was handsome. He knew he was hot shit and wanted to make sure everybody knew. He came up right to the bar counter and leaned against up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Miss y/n…” He greeted in his boyish voice, looking up and down at your figure as he usually did. He stopped at your face. You never wore makeup, and if you did, it was barely noticeable to the naked eye. However, Floyd noticed you looked different tonight. You had a bright shade of red on your lips, a light rogue pressed onto your cheeks, and a soft eyeshadow to match your (y/e/c) eyes. It was soft, just like Floyd perceived you as. “Are you wearing makeup?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You nodded and looked down, feeling your heart skip a beat. You tried to snap back at him, but your body forced you to look and not embarrass yourself. “Yes. I suppose I try something new, to make myself look somewhat put together.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Floyd looked puzzled at your response, “Put together? You always look gorgeous, I don’t know what you mean.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keeping your gaze down, you were finding it difficult to be around him. The room got darker and you felt a cold sweat overcome your body. You weren’t asking for his sympathy. Of course he saw this and found another way to flirt with you. You refused to give him the satisfaction he wanted, even though you did enjoy his kind words. You shook your head, “You don’t have to lie, Floyd.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I never lie. Look at me, y/n,” Floyd stated as his fingers tipped your chin up. His grasp was as light as a feather. The two of you made eye contact with each other. His fingers rested on your chin for longer than you both expected. His long fingers slided away as he caught a glimpse of your face so close, noticing all the little features about you. “You’re beautiful, without all of this and with this. I don’t know if you could deny it. If a man doesn’t find a dame like you gorgeous, then they must need glasses.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You looked at him and back down, scrambling to find your words. Romance was something that you hated. It should have made you feel happy and left you with a good relantishop, but instead you were left with broken hearts and scared. As much as you wanted to love and be loved, it was hard to. You were scared of getting hurt again but Floyd Talbert made you reconsider. And your mind was stubborn. You didn’t want to reconsider, all you wanted to do was stay in your old ways and be alone. But how long were the two of you going to play this game of cat and mouse? How long could it go on? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Every time Floyd tried to leave you, he always ended up back at your door, hoping you’ll finally open up to him; by either literally opening her door or letting him into her heart. Floyd’s way’s, the small and big things, illustrated his dedication to winning your heart. Floyd was willing to drive for miles to end  up with you, and he wished you would appreciate his effort. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, I guess you need glasses then,” You smirked and turned around to fix Floyd a beer, his favorite drink. He always liked the glass to be half way since he wasn’t a real drinker, he was more of a social one. You had picked up on that after befriending him. But was he a friend? Someone who you were in love with? What was he to you, and what were you to him? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Placing the beer in front of him, you attempted to walk away, but Floyd even knew you weren’t getting away that easy. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sit with me,” He requested, patting the empty barstool next to him. You opened your mouth to protest, but he already beat you to it, “Nobody’s here. Just one drink, and I’ll leave you be.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rolling your eyes, you walked over and towards Talbert to sit across from him. Instead of patting the barstool, he was now patting his lap with a look of lust and humor. Knowing that he was teasing you, you chuckled and sat on the barstool. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay, you have me now.” You said as you put your hands up, ‘Why do you want me here?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I wanna know the pretty dame behind all of the makeup,” Floyd responded as he pulled on his lower lip, “Tell me about you. Home, your cat, everything.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“One minute you want to marry me, the next you want to know my life story…” You replied as you also leaned onto the counter, “If you want to know so badly, then you go first. Tell me your life story.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And so Floyd Talbert did. He told every little detail he could about himself from his family, Kokomo, his love for fishing, his four brothers-basically, his whole life story. Floyd had no problem openly sharing his problems with the world, especially you. He was fine telling you about his dad not being present, working odd jobs in high school, not attending college-he was ok with it. He accepted and loved himself, as you could clearly see. You on the other hand couldn’t understand how open he could be with himself, in relationships and in general. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The hard front of Floyd’s boot gently kicked your heel, his toe caressing against your bare ankle. A chill was sent up your spine as you looked up at him, straightening his back. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You seemed so interested that you started drooling,” He commented, a smirk on his face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You gave him a puzzled expression before you could notice the sticky sensation at the corner of your lip. Groaning in embarrassment, you looked for a napkin to wipe the drool from. Before you could find a napkin, Floyd had grabbed a handkerchief from his breast pocket and grabbed your chin gently, wiping the side of your mouth. He held you like you were made of glass, easily broken by a little infraction, which was partially true. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once Floyd removed his fingers, he handed you the handkerchief. “Here, for you.’ He slicked his honey hair back, “Some ladies would kill for that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hearing the comment, you rolled your eyes and shoved it into your apron. “Hardy Har Har, thank you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ok, enough about me. What about you?” Floyd said as he scooted his chair towards you, resting his arms on the counter with his chin gliding against his palm. “I’d like to know more about my dame.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You looked at him and back down, biting your lip. A sarcastic comeback crossed your mind, but somehow you couldn’t spit out the words. The possessive word made you freeze in place as your grasp tightened around your drink. Nobody had called you in years. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m no one’s,” You stated, taking a long sip of your drink, “I’m boring. I grew up in Albourne, always have been here. I have a daughter, I like to read, smoke, I-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know that, but I want to know what’s in here.” Floyd pointed a finger at your head and heart. It was sweet, and even adorable. As much as you wanted to give into his warmth, the ice that surrounded your heart began to freeze. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Come on, darling. Don’t play so hard to get, I know it’s not easy. Just loosen up a little for once. I can tell you that I’m stubborn, just like you. I like a challenge, and I always win,” Floyd cockily stated, which only pushed your buttons. The closer he scooted his chair towards you, the more you felt like screaming at the top of your lungs. “Stop being so scared and jus-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My goddess gracious, shut up!” You exclaimed loudly, burying your hands in your face. Floyd, respecting your wishes, shut up and was left speechless, his face contorted. What had he done wrong? He hadn’t touched you at all.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know, I’ve been with guys just like you. Total flirts, sleep with whoever they want and do whatever they want. They don’t care, just as long as it doesn’t affect them. God forbid If a woman does that, she’s considered a whore,” You ranted, “Guys like you are bad news. You treat us like objects that you can use and then throw out the next day. I know this game-you don’t care about me or my feelings at all, do you?” You looked away from him, holding back years, “After all, you said you wanted honesty, so there.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Floyd was shocked at your sudden rant. He considered you sweet and quiet. This was the most he had ever heard come out of your mouth. Normally, he wouldn’t be moved by these things since they never occurred. This was his longest “flirting avvenire” he had experienced in years. His heart broke at your words. Being ashamed of himself, he attempted to fix what had been broken. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Y/n, that’s not what you think. I know I’m like that, and it’s no excuse. But you’re…” Floyd stopped and let out an exhale with a red face, “different. When I first looked at you, I thought I died. I haven’t talked to any other dame since-you’re the only one that matters. I think about you whenever I’m not with you. Y/n, I think I lo-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You let out a dry laugh, “Yeah. You may talk to me, make me laugh and say the sweetest things...but how many other girls are you doing that to? How many other girls have you shamed for being your property? How many girls have you slapped for looking at another man for less than a second? How many other girls have you forced yourself on and left them with a child you never wanted? Tell me, I’d love to hear.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Floyd listened to your words carefully, analyzing them. The thought processed on his head, and instead of looking offended, his face softened. He looked sad and pained. Even though you had said a little, Floyd could piece together your past. He felt like an idiot for not knowing. No wonder you were cold and distant. From what it seemed, you had been not only physically abused, but touched without your consent and forced to take care of a child you didn’t want. Floyd felt terrible for you. It was no longer a game anymore, it was serious. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Y/n...I’m sorry. I never knew. I feel like an idiot for not knowing. I’m not like that. I’d never do something like that I-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You sound just like him. All of you are the same. You put on a fake little smile and say sweet little things,” You ranted as you pushed yourself out of the chair to walk out. Floyd cursed under his breath and followed you right out, “Then bomb, under your control.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Y/n-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Slamming the door open, your feet angrily stomp through the mud. You don’t care if you're sinking. You don’t know where you're going, but you want to be as far away from Floyd as possible. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You turned around and pointed a blaming finger at his chest, “Don’t interrupt me. You're so damn manipulative. From the minute you sat down, I could see that you wanted me in your bed. My biggest mistake wasn’t falling for you, it was thinking you had fallen for me.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Floyd didn’t say anything and watched you turn over and run a hand through your neatly done up hair and makeup, which both became unruly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry.” He apologized. Floyd walked over and grabbed your hands in an attempt to win you back, “I know it’s cheesy, but you're changing me. I tried to move on, but I can’t. Just let me help you. I can be whatever for you. A friend, a lover, anything. I had no idea what you had gone through. Can you let me inside so I can help you?” He was serious, this was no joke to him or you, “Let’s stop this game of cat and mouse. Honesty is number one here.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You threw his hands away and began to back away, black tears streaming from your caked face. The nice outfit, soft hair, and pretty dress all for him. It was blind ignorance. How dumb you felt and looked. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Goodbye, Floyd.” Is all you said before you hastily turned around and left him alone. You could imagine his gorgeous face, all heartbroken. Deep inside, you hated doing this. Breaking hearts, just like Floyd did. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But you and Floyd were different. He was the archer and you were the prey in the big scheme of things. In your world, to prevent history from repeating itself, it is better to be safe than sorry. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-----------</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You always left your door unlocked. Albourne was home, you had  never left in. You knew your neighbors well enough. They liked you and your bubbly little daughter enough. Whenever you’d come home from work, she would run up to your feet and smile at you. Her smile would remind you of the man that shattered your heart, but there was something special about Poppy. She was not his, but yours, the light in that dark relationship. You made sure she was loved every single day and put her happiness over yours. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Another girl had taken your shift for the night, which made you relieved. You had a whole day to yourself, and Poppy. It was an indoors day due to the heavy rain. You accomplished from cleaning with the help of Poppy, some reading, and a game of princess and dragons. You were the dragon and Poppy played the role of the princess, and her stuffed animal the prince. The way she played the prince triggered the thoughts of Floyd. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After cleaning up, Floyd would infect your mind like a parasite. After you had bid him goodbye, you hadn’t seen him since. You had seen his friends at the bar and around town, but not him. Why did you miss him? You made it clear that you wanted nothing to do with him. You couldn’t stand being hurt again, even if a part of you, just a tiny one, considered feelings.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Poppy had drifted off into a nap, you decided to go check out the rain. The garden you had built outside was weighed down by the heavy amount of train. You slowly walked into the rain as you felt your hair stick to your face and the clothes on your body become all moist. It was like taking a shower, it was beautiful. Closing your eyes, you tilted your head up and let the rain pour down your face and body. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The rain suddenly stopped falling into your mouth and clothes. Confused, you had thought it stopped raining. You opened your eyes and instead of a gray sky, you were met with the black top of an umbrella, being held by none other than Floyd Talbert. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What are you doing in the rain?” He asked casually as he put a hand on your waist, walking with you to the cover of your house. He was drenched too, but you were soaking wet. “You’re gonna get sick.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You blinked a few times to make sure what you were seeing and hearing was real. You stuttered and pointed at you, “Floyd...oh...I...how did you..?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Waitresses at The Pub. I got worried, I didn’t see you at the pub.” He explained not to sound stalkerish, “I looked everywhere for you because I needed to talk to you. Please, I know you hate me, but before I go, I might not come back. I rather tell you then die with it.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You had forgotten there was a war that Floyd was a part of. He would soon be shipped off to Europe and be gone for forever or an indefinite amount of time. His hazel orb’s begged for your attention, and you were finding it hard to resist. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Since you’re here...I suppose it’s only fair.” You accepted, “Go on.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I was thinking about what you told me, and it made me think too. I used to not do it a lot, until I met you,” He admitted, “Y/n, I know it’s crazy, but I could’ve sworn I died when I first looked at you. My heart stopped and I didn’t know what to say when you came over to me. You were sweet, quiet, and drop dead gorgeous. No other dame mattered to me, only you did. When I was with you, I only thought about you and what you wanted to do. You’re in my dreams and thoughts when I’m not with you. I think about you a lot, and...I love you, angel, as crazy as I sound.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know what you’ve gone through and I’m sorry. But, I want to help you. I want to make you feel beautiful and loved. You know I’m there for you in whatever way you want, as a friend or a lover. I’m always a door away, and you know that y/n. But I love you more than anything in the world, and I want to show that to you in whatever way I can.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You didn’t know what had triggered the kiss. Maybe it was Floyd’s speech, the hand on the small of your back, or his wet uniform. You didn’t respond with words and leaned in. Floyd didn’t protest and dived right into the kiss, his hands wrapped around your waist and back for support. The girls at your job were right, he was the best kieer you had ever met. He was gentle with you, his plump lips felt like heaven on your lips. It was a genius and heartfelt kiss. He could taste your lipstick and you could taste his cologne after the two of you had far gone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There the two of you stood, wrapped in each other's arms as the rain poured down onto you. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You looked up and grabbed Floyd’s hand, nudging your head. “I’ll get you some warm clothes. I can make you a drink, if you please. Tea, coffee, anything.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Floyd walked right beside you and pulled you in close for warmth. He planted a kiss on your wet hair, “You?” You looked at him with that motherly glare, which earned you a giggle. “You did say anything I wanted.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, I guess I did,” You raised your eyebrows and smiled. You leaned into his shoulder as you walked back into your little cottage, Floyd holding you close to his side.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You ended up serving him Tea. Poppy had woken up from her nap and followed Floyd around like a dog, believing that her wish of a father had come true. Floyd was intent on making Poppy’s dreams come true. Poppy would rave about the stories she wrote as you sat on Floyd’s lap, a blanket sprawled on your lap. His hand would play with the ends of your loose hair as you leaned in his chest, a soft smile on your face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> You had made dinner for three instead of two that night. As you cleaned the dishes, Floyd had read Poppy a story and sent her to sleep. He promised her that the next time he came over that she would get to meet Trigger and walk him. After Poppy had fallen asleep, Floyd came back to the kitchen and carried you to your room. The two of you got rid of your dirty clothes and left them sprawled on the ground, jumping into the bath with each other. He made sure that you were pampered that night as he washed your body and hair, massaged your back, planted kisses on your body, complimented you every other second, and did thousands of little things that would make a girl go head over heels. He took you to your bed and wrapped you in warm blankets and even made you a cup of tea. He knew he was going to get in trouble, but he stayed behind with you and cuddled with you until you fell asleep for “warmth”. It was cliche, but you absolutely loved it. Floyd’s radiance and warmth had melted away that icy barrier. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And with that, Floyd truly made you feel loved once again. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
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